


My Arms Will Hold You

by AeonTheDimensionalGirl



Series: I’ve Got You (You’re Safe Now) [18]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Era, Caring Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Deviates From Canon, First Kiss, Fluffy Ending, Getting Together, Hurt Merlin (Merlin), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Pillow Talk, Post-Magic Reveal, Scared Merlin (Merlin), Sharing a Bed, Soft Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:02:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27073930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AeonTheDimensionalGirl/pseuds/AeonTheDimensionalGirl
Summary: The fear of getting burned at the pyre manifests after witnessing an execution.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: I’ve Got You (You’re Safe Now) [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1939345
Comments: 28
Kudos: 773





	My Arms Will Hold You

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Nothing, But Everything](https://archiveofourown.org/works/806288) by [Spineless](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spineless/pseuds/Spineless). 



> **PROMPT No 18. PANIC! AT THE DISCO**  
>  **Panic Attacks** | **Phobias** | Paranoia
> 
> I insist you guys read **_Spineless_** ’s fic. In my opinion it’s a treasure.

Merlin remembers well the first time he saw an execution by the pyre.

He’d been Arthur’s manservant for two months, and by then the executions had only been by axe or rope; until a member of the household had been caught using magic, and Uther had coldly declared a pyre to be built.

The warlock hadn’t even wanted to see the enactment of the killing, it was enough having seen a beheading when first arrived to Camelot-

But Gaius insisted he did, and to this day Merlin still suspected it had been to teach him a lesson; to scare him into not using magic for fun or do his chores with more ease.

It fucking worked.

The victim had been a servant like himself.

Looking a bit like him, too.

It felt like a warning; _‘Don’t let them know of your magic or else this shall be your fate’_.

That night, Merlin dreamed it was _him_ who was burning, a morbid combination of Uther and Arthur lighting the pyre.

He woke up screaming.

* * *

The worst thing about developing a fear of burning at the pyre is that Merlin _likes_ fire.

He has always loved playing with the flames, ever since he was a child. His fondest memories are of making puppets of dancing figures when he’s been not allowed to participate on festivals by the village for being Ealdor’s bastard child; the far away music accompanying the little sparks made by the flames in a pretty sway and spin.

And on the days he’d been feeling particularly lonely, the fire would take the forms of magical creatures, and Merlin would feel less alone as he let unicorns, selkies and dragons made of flames twirl around him.

And now-

Now the flame figures were rare.

Merlin would try his hardest to forget about the screams and the smell of burning flesh every time he lighted up a fire for hunting trips and the one that warmed Arthur’s bedchambers; and he would manage to forget, even for a bit, as he watched the little dragons made of sparks fly around-

But then he hears footsteps in the deep of the woods or in the echoing hallways, and the smell and the screams would assault him to the point that he would scramble far away from the fire; terrified and seeing himself tied to a post and screaming and burning as the grisly chimera of Uther and Arthur stares at him, calling Merlin a monster-

Gaius would look at him guilty the next morning after a vicious nightmare.

Merlin avoided the stare, simply silently accepting the vial of sleeping tonic.

* * *

With time, the nightmares about burning lessened for a bit, coming back with only when an execution would take place.

When the inevitable execution came, Merlin would do his best to be well away from the castle when it was carried out, going to small clearing filled with enough flowers to cancel the smell of smoke and just let his magic and nature soothe out his fears-

And then Arthur told him he knew.

* * *

Merlin’s burning.

The flames are high around him, cruel walls of crackling fury that whisper _‘monster’_ and _‘traitor’_ while he begins to turn into ash, panic filling him upon his last moments on consciousness while cold eyes look at him through the smoke-

Merlin woke up gasping for air, sitting up quickly as a scream died on his throat.

His nightclothes stick to his skin, bathed in cold sweat; while his feet are tangled with the sheets around the foot of his bed.

The raven heaves as he tried to regain his breathing, a hand clutching his chest between pants.

“It was just a nightmare” Merlin whispered to himself, closing his eyes as he felt the familiar sting of tears, “It wasn’t real. It was just a nightmare, it wasn’t real-”

When he feels like he’s calmed, Merlin eases himself back onto bed, turning to look at the faint moonlight that filtered through his window as he tries to force himself back onto sleeping while resisting the urge to get up to get a sleeping tonic from the workroom.

After the Crown Prince sat him down on his chambers and quietly revealed that he knew of Merlin’s magic, the nightmares made a brutal return and the dreams have been too vicious for the medicine Gaius constantly makes- and the warlock _knows_ they won’t work; they haven’t been working on him for a fortnight (hell, even longer if he’s honest) and the medicine won’t even do for dreamless sleep-

And yet the urge to drink one is still there.

But the promise of sleep also brings forth restlessness in the knowledge that the nightmares lurk in the dream realm, waiting for the raven.

But the warlock didn’t want to feel burned out either.

Clutching his pillow, Merlin began singing under his breath in an effort to lull himself to sleep, his magic adding to the effort with an accompanying soothing hum.

Despite the melody, sleep does not come.

Near desperate, Merlin counted sheep and the stars, named all the medicinal herbs, counted the knots and nails on the ceiling, conjured warm goat milk-

And sleep still evaded him all the way into the sunrise.

Gaius knocks on his door, telling him is time to wake up. The warlock resisted the urge to snort in unamusement.

Dreading what the day will bring with the little sleep he’s got, Merlin gets out of bed with a sigh.

* * *

Merlin’s exhausted.

It’s unsurprising given the lack of sleep, but it’s been five and ten sleepless nights of waking up clammy and grasping his sheets with an iron grip, tears threatening to spill as he remembers feeling set ablaze, recalls the pain and the panic and the intensity and the judging stares and the whispers that call him a freak and a monstrosity-

And it’s beginning to take it’s toll on him.

It’s come to the point of constantly feeling an upcoming headache behind his eyelids alongside a slight sting.

And the worst part is that sleeping wasn’t the problem, Merlin could fall into a dead faint right where he was currently kneeled in front of the fireplace in Arthur’s bedchambers- but unless he wanted the nightmares about burning to come true, he forced his tired eyelids to keep themselves open.

Idly poking the hearth with the iron rod, the raven wonders if perhaps there was a spell for dreamless sleep in the magic books he owned. If not, well- Merlin would have to invent one, because he doesn’t think he’ll stand one more night of terror-

Merlin inhaled sharply at the same time he feels himself slip off his kneeling position, having accidentally leaned forward to-

The raven flailed out his arms in panic to avoid diving head first into the fire.

And yet-

The world stops.

He sees his right forearm come into contact with the closest embers to him.

Merlin doesn’t scream.

It’s like he’s gone mute with shock as he witnesses his skin blister out and darken, the faint smell of burning flesh reaching his nose while he can only tremble-

 _“-lin have- you- the hearth-?”_ Arthur’s voice is a distant echo.

“…Yes” Merlin answers numbly, still terror-stuck to the fireplace, where he is still too close to as he can feel hot coals biting at his knees through his breeches and the pain finally registers and he gasps and the fire is all around him and his vision is only dark smoke and-

I’m burning, he thinks with growing horror, _I’m burning_ -

“Honestly _Mer_ lin, how long can it take you to- MERLIN WHAT THE FUCK?!”

A pair of callused hands yank him backwards, away from the pyre-

Except it’s not a pyre, it the fireplace of the Prince’s chambers and said noble is dragging him further away from the flames while the only thing that the warlock can do is breathe heavily as he cradles his injured limp to his chest-

“-mad?!” Arthur’s voice finally registers itself again on Merlin’s brain at the same time he feels a strong grip on his shoulder and the back of his neck, the Crown Prince’s disconcerted sapphire eyes starting right at him.

“…What?” Merlin faintly whispers. Arthur’s eyes widen further in unsettlement.

“Are you mad?!” the blond repeats, shaking the warlock slightly, “Do you have a death wish? Do you crave to be executed by the pyre so badly that you set yourself on fire?!” he yells, holding up the raven’s injured limp by the hand.

Numbly, Merlin can only stare at his arm, feeling sick as he takes in the dark and burnt skin.

Against the pain, the warlock lets out a shaky breath, followed by another and another until he feels like he can’t breathe no more-

“Merlin”

The feeling of Arthur’s callused fingers cupping his face and the soft worried tone of his voice snaps Merlin out of it.

“Let me see” the blond whispers softly.

Blinking hazily, Merlin realizes that he’s seated in the Crown Prince’s bed, curled onto himself while still cradling his injured arm; whereas Arthur holds a wet rag with his free hand, a bowl of water placed on the table next to the mattress.

Letting out another shaky breath, Merlin bites his lip, hesitating for a moment before extending his injured limp towards Arthur, who takes the raven’s forearm with the most utter care, the warlock didn’t know the blond was capable of doing.

Silently both Merlin and the Crown Prince examine the burn, and the raven has to swallow down the sudden nausea that hits him.

“Fuck” the raven mutters.

It’s not horrible, per se.

But it’s not good either.

The burn goes from a blistered patch at the inside of Merlin’s wrist to more blistered and darkened flesh near the elbow.

Arthur, for his side, doesn’t say anything as he reaches for the bowl before gently lowering the raven’s arm into the bowl full of cool water, and Merlin can’t help the hiss that escapes him at the contact, but soon the relief hits; the ache still throbs, but not so much anymore.

“Do you-” he gulps, “Do you have any burn paste around?” he asks, remembering his physician training.

Now it’s Arthur who swears.

“I don’t think so” the blond admits, frowning as he gets up, but not before handling the warlock the wet rag, “For your knees” he explains.

Oh right.

He’d burned himself there too.

Distracted by Arthur’s sounds of looking for a jar of salve, Merlin begins dabbing the less serious wounds on his knees (upon proper inspecting it was just a minor burn, like accidentally touching something hot), aware that his movements are completely mechanic to this point.

On the inside he’s reeling with mortification.

He’s nearly accidentally killed himself in his sleep addled state.

_In front of Arthur-_

“AHA!”

“You found it?” Merlin weakly asked.

“I found it” Arthur confirmed, walking over to him as he opened the jar before sitting next to the raven, “Hand me the rag and give me your arm”

“I could do it myself” Merlin mumbled, but he handled the rag back to the blond anyway, feeling his face heat as Arthur gently took back his hand.

“Would you have done it with magic?”

Was it him or Arthur’s voice was curious.

“… Yes” Merlin admitted.

“You’ve done that before then”

The raven nodded shyly, turning his head away while biting his lip as Arthur began to dab the rag full of paste onto his forearm.

For a while, everything is silent, the only sound in the room being Merlin’s hitched breathing and the crackling fire in the hearth.

“Merlin” Arthur softly calls, “What happened?”

“I don’t know” the raven confessed, looking into the distance, aware of the Crown Prince’s stare, “I just- I slipped- and panicked and-” he gestured jerkily to his injured limp, “I burnt myself”

The blond was quiet for a moment.

“…. You’ve been looking tired lately” he said.

Merlin flinched, pursing his lips; but nodded nonetheless.

“Is it because of me? Have I been giving you too much to do?” the concern in Arthur’s voice was real.

“You’re always giving me too much to do” Merlin deadpanned.

“ _Mer_ lin-”

The raven sighed, turning to look at his dear friend in the eye.

“I haven’t been… sleeping well, that’s all”

Arthur frowned at him.

“Gaius’s tonics haven’t been working on you?”

“Getting to sleep is not the problem” Merlin revealed in a small voice, looking at the flames in the fireplace, feeling haunted by them.

“Nightmares?”

Merlin nodded, still staring at the fire.

 _‘We’re not done with you’_ they seemed to be whispering, _‘Come back-’_

Arthur’s face appeared in his line of vision, snapping him out of it once again.

His dear friend pursed his lips, looking briefly at Merlin before staring at the hearth and back to look at the warlock.

“Is it-” the Crown Prince visibly swallowed, “Is it because of me?”

Merlin blinked at the blond in confusion.

“Huh?”

“Your nightmares” Arthur stressed, sapphire eyes bright, “You said you haven’t been able to sleep because of nightmares… and you’ve been looking tired ever since I told you I knew of your magic”

“I-” Merlin didn’t want to tell him that it was true, but looking at Arthur’s sorrowful face, he couldn’t lie to him.

Sighing and closing his eyes, the raven nodded silently.

He startled slightly when he felt his healthy hand be taken into a tight grip.

“Merlin-” Arthur whispered, clutching the warlock’s palm, “Merlin- I would never”

“I know” Merlin said in quick reassurance, “I know, Arthur-” 

“But-”

“I’ve had them for years, you prat” he snapped, “They always come and go, so stop blaming yourself”

“But I made them come back” Arthur murmured, rubbing his thumb over the back the raven’s hand as he sighed again.

“Yes” Merlin whispered. He bit his lip, staring at the distressed blond, “But you shouldn’t blame yourself. I-” he gulped, feeling tears burn behind his eyes, “It’s just- the possibility of someone else finding out-”

Beside him, he hears Arthur let out a shaky breath before he drops his hand and stops applying the paste-

Only to cradle Merlin’s face between his hands, pressing their forehead together, eyes fierce.

“No one is going to find out, I won’t let anyone hurt you” he said, almost like a vow.

Merlin felt his breath hitch at the same time he felt his ears burn, but he still shook his head.

“You can’t promise me that” he whispered, feeling his voice waver.

“ _Mer_ lin, you idiot” Arthur gave him a small smile, “I am the Crown Prince of Camelot, and I swear by my kingdom that as long as I live, no harm will come to you”

Merlin swallowed.

It sounded too good to be true.

“You promise?”

“With my life”

“Alright” Merlin whispered, allowing himself to hope.

Arthur smiled at him, before separating themselves to begin applying bandages on Merlin’s burn, the raven grimacing and clutching the duvet when the wrapping process hurt too much.

When it was done, a somewhat awkward silence settle between them, Arthur crossing his arms while Merlin cradled his injury close to his chest.

“Do you-” the Crown Prince cleared his throat when the warlock turned to look at him, “Do you want to sleep in the antechamber?”

Merlin bit his lip, thinking if it was a good idea.

He _was_ tired…

The raven nodded, smiling a bit in amusement when Arthur seemingly sagged with relief.

“I’ll ask someone else to have the bed made, and a page to send word to Gaius” his dear friend said, “You can have my spare sleep clothes, if you like”

Was it part of Merlin’s weary brain, or was Arthur blushing?

Nonetheless, the raven smiled, thankful.

“Sure”

* * *

Merlin woke up tied to a stake.

Panicking, he tried looking for his magic, but it was gone-

“You honestly believed I was going to protect you?” a familiar voice asked with amusement.

Merlin stilled.

Horrified, he saw that Arthur was in front of him, smirking as he held up a torch.

“No-” Merlin cried out as he tried to fight against his bonds, “Arthur- Arthur please- you promised-”

“Shut up, _sorcerer_ ” the Crown Prince spat, “Did you really thought I will hide and help you?”

“Arthur-”

The blond slapped him with the underside of his hand, drawing out blood.

“Filth like you always die” Arthur said at the same time he threw the torch at the hay and wood that surrounded Merlin, who kept crying the blond’s name, begging while the smoke rose-

And the flames engulfed him.

Merlin let out a blood curling scream.

_“-lin?!”_

The fire called his name-

_“-ke up!”_

The raven withered as the flames licked and ate his body-

_“-mare- Merlin-”_

Arthur smiled darkly at him, pleased as he watched him burn-

_“-‘re safe!”_

The fire- was shaking him?

_“-LIN!”_

Merlin gasps for breath- and oh gods- he can’t breathe-

He claws at his throat at the same time he coughs, trying to get rid of the smoke-

But he can’t because-

Merlin heaves between the hyperventilation.

Because someone is _holding him-_ Rocking him back and forth slightly while gentle hands run through his back and caress his hair in comfort and someone is murmuring into his ear “Breathe, shh- it’s alright- breathe- shhh I’m here, you’re safe- it was just a nightmare shhh-”

_Arthur._

No.

Nonono-

With a choked cry, the warlock tries to push the blond away, hitting and clawing at him-

“Merlin-!”

“IT WAS YOU!” Merlin sobbed, feeling Arthur still against him, “IT WAS YOU!- I- YOU PROMISED-”

He gasped, curling onto himself as he tried to remember how breathe.

“It was you…” he repeated with a whispered cry, “You held the torch- you called me filth-” he cut himself of while another sob ran through his body.

“No-” Arthur’s voice was shaky, “Merlin- no-”

Callused hands cradle his face once more, thumbs gently whipping away tears; between blurry eyes Merlin can see the raw distress in the Crown Prince’s face.

“Merlin-” Arthur whispered, “Merlin- I would never let you burn- it was just a nightmare-”

And Merlin believed him.

Still sobbing, the raven threw himself at the blond, who held him tightly as he cried and trembled in his hold, resuming the gentle rocking and hair caress while Merlin began to calm down, his dear friend’s soft reassurances a soothing lullaby-

“I would never burn you” Arthur kept on whispering in his ear, “I would never hurt you- I care for you too much- I love-” and he cut himself off, tensing.

Breath hitching, Merlin turned to stare at him, eyes widening as he took in the blond’s panicked face.

“Er-” Arthur was avoiding looking at him, “Can we forget I just said that?” he asked with a faint voice.

“No” the warlock said in a slightly weak croak, placing his hand on the blond’s cheek while a slow smile forming on his lips as he took in the flushed look on Arthur’s face as the Crown Prince sighed.

“Merlin-” he began to say, looking wary, but Merlin cut him off by pressing his lips to the blond’s.

For a moment Arthur did not answer, and he panicked, beginning to draw away as a feeling of mortification went through him-

But then Arthur was kissing Merlin back, sneaking his arm onto the raven’s waist while his other hand went to cradle the back of his head, fingers softly caressing the end hairs. Meanwhile, the warlock weakly fisted the blond’s sleep tunic with his injured hand at the same time he sighed into the kiss.

When the break apart for air, they’re both grinning like loons.

“You too, huh?” Arthur whispered softly to him.

“Yes” Merlin replied, nuzzling his beloved before placing his head on the blond’s shoulder, suddenly feeling exhausted, eyes closing almost immediately. 

Arthur chuckled in his ear, and at the same time Merlin felt gentle arms take hold of him under his shoulders and knees, lifting him from the floor he’d fallen off in the mist of his panic attack.

Opening his eyes by a slit, the raven noticed how they exited the antechamber, the Crown Prince approaching his bed.

“I really don’t want to go back to sleep” Merlin admitted in small voice as Arthur placed him on the soft mattress.

“I’ll keep the nightmares away” the blond gently said, pressing a kiss to his forehead before slithering under the bed sheets, making sure to cover Merlin as well.

“How?”

“I’ll scare them”

The answer was delivered with such confidence and bravado that the warlock exploded into incontrollable laughter.

“You can’t do that!” Merlin said once he calmed down, still chuckling.

“Yes, I can” Arthur replied with a smile, seemingly glad he made the raven laugh. He then gently turned Merlin around to his side, embracing him from behind, holding him close as he interlaced their hands and tangled their legs together.

“I’ll dream for both of us, of a bright future where you don’t have to be afraid of fire no longer” the blond whispered on the warlock’s ear, “Where you are recognized for your efforts and your sacrifices, and your magic is free to be used”

“That’s a nice dream” Merlin murmured, voice tired. He turned his head to stare at his beloved, who smiled gently at him before pressing a small yet lingering kiss unto his lips.

Grinning softly, the raven allowed his eyes to close, body sagging almost immediately as it surrounded itself to slumber.

In Arthur’s arms, he did not dream of a burning pyre.

Instead, Merlin dreamed of golden crowns and silver circlets, finally peaceful in his King’s arms.


End file.
